


Good Vibrations

by isozyme



Category: Avengers (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Comedy of Errors, Fucking Machines, Gone Wrong!, Lots of come, M/M, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Farce, Size Kink, holy shit what's happened to Tony?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:41:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24328942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isozyme/pseuds/isozyme
Summary: Steve had sounded like he really genuinely wanted to see Tony and hear about the new robot-heart and Stark Solutions, so Tony decided that a weekend trip was worth it to see his friend in person.Hisfriend,Tony had reminded himself. Not anything else. It wasn’t fair to Steve if Tony spent their entire visit thinking un-friend-like thoughts about him, and his muscles, and his sweet smile and his careful, firm hugs.  However, Tony had a plan. All he needed to do was to tire his dick out on the way over, and he’d be fine. Fortuitously, the Mark 20 had a few brand-new bells and whistles that would help him blow off some steam before meeting up with Steve.◈Tony built a fucking machine inside the armor. It would be a shame if it malfunctioned in the worst possible way, at the worst possible time, in front of the worst possible person.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 38
Kudos: 512





	Good Vibrations

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: [Good Vibrations 美妙共振](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29478789) by [SolarPoweredAlien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolarPoweredAlien/pseuds/SolarPoweredAlien)



> Thank you to Hopelesse for the beta, and to Sineala and Blossoms for enabling! I wouldn’t have written this if you hadn’t been like “do it though” when I mentioned that the most self-indulgent, hilarious fic to write would be Tony’s in-flight masturbation rig going horribly wrong in front of Steve.
> 
> There is nothing serious in here. This is a pornographic comedy of errors and that’s 100% of the content. Sometimes that’s what you need!

Three things landed Tony in his current situation: first, pure, idiot hubris. Second, a series of statistically unlikely but unfortunate events. Third, trans-continental flights in the Iron Man suit were boring. Tony got tired of audiobooks, and the thrill of flying wore thin after the first two hours of traveling in a straight line over states that started with the letter I.

So, yeah, his newest design had a little more room around the groin plate and a subset of the blueprints lived in his double-encrypted hard drive. It was a natural part of human sexuality, and a perfectly harmless way to pass the time. It wasn’t like anyone would ever find out.

Right now, Tony wasn’t so sure about the accuracy of that last part.

◈

A couple hours ago, at the beginning of his trip, everything had seemed perfectly routine.

He took off from Seattle, heading to New York for a meeting with investors and a check-in with the Avengers. Steve had sounded like he really genuinely wanted to see Tony and hear about the new robot-heart and Stark Solutions, so Tony decided the weekend trip was worth it to see his friend in person.

His friend, Tony reminded himself. Not anything else. It wasn’t fair to Steve if Tony spent their entire visit thinking un-friend-like thoughts about him, and his muscles, and his sweet smile and his careful, firm hugs. However, Tony had a plan. All he needed to do was to tire his dick out on the way over, and he’d be fine. Fortuitously, the Mark 20 had a few brand-new bells and whistles that would help him blow off some steam before meeting up with Steve.

Tony flicked the suit into autopilot and loaded up some porn. Something sweet, he decided, and picked a threesome, a dark haired man and two blonde-haired beauties, one with a gorgeous rack and one with a really impressive dick. The darker-haired man ended up in the middle, fucking the woman with lazy strokes while the other man took his ass from behind.

There wasn’t any way to thrust to gain friction in the suit, but Tony’s stomach muscles tightened as his dick started to harden. On his visor screen the camera angle flipped around to capture the faces of the men, both clearly enjoying themselves, all heavy breaths and sweat. Inside the armor motors whirred and folded themselves out of the way to give his cock some space to play.

Time for the good stuff. A small metal hook found the pull of a very well-concealed zipper that ran from the front button of Tony’s fly all the way down between his legs and up the seam at the seat of his pants. He’d rationalized that it made relieving himself a lot simpler if he ever needed to go and didn’t want to strip the entire armor off. Mostly he used it for this.

Under Tony’s slacks he was wearing a jockstrap because — because — he didn’t have to explain himself. It was sexy, and he’d been feeling himself that morning. Thus, the jockstrap and the easy-access pants. He didn’t have a lot of chances to feel attractive, especially since he and Rumiko were in an off-again spell of their on-again off-again relationship.

The point was, this activity was both pre-meditated and well-planned and what would happen later was a freak accident that he could not have foreseen.

At the time, Tony had been ignorant of the coming disaster, and was looking forward to enjoying himself.

The vibrator integrated into the suit was made of bright golden mesh like he’d used to make the flexible parts of the armor in the good old days. It ran on a combination of transistors and magnetic fields, and he was pretty proud of it. He was aware that getting hot for being fucked with his own tech made him a parody of himself, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t giving him a hard-on.

Tony sighed impatiently as the metal dildo extended from its niche in the back of the groin plate and pressed between his bare cheeks. This was the trickiest part, getting the aim right blind, without much freedom of movement in his hips to help. Any time he automatically flexed to make the positioning easier the whole apparatus moved with him, useless.

“Pitch, minus five degrees,” Tony said. “Length, plus ten percent.” Nope, that was not a nice poke.

“Length minus ten percent, yaw plus three degrees, pitch plus two degrees. Okay, length plus five percent. Slowly!” Tony revised.

There — the angle was significantly better. Someday Tony needed to automate this so he wouldn’t have to pause his jerk off sessions to manually direct his dildo. “All right, lube it up and give me length plus thirty percent.”

Tony curled his toes against the soles of his boots as the warm metal breached him. This part was good every time. He could imagine someone holding his hips and working into him, gently implacable. It had been a while since he’d enjoyed any anal play, so he’d calibrated the flexible metal to start at an easy size. It would get bigger when he was ready. Maybe a little before he was ready — Tony liked a bit of impatience, imagining that his partner was desperate to push more and more into him, not afraid to challenge his body and make him gasp.

The vibrator’s upper size limit was — well — generous. Not that Tony needed a huge dick to satisfy him; he was happy with all sizes. But having infinite variations available was a real bonus to getting fucked with a strap-on, especially when Tony could whip up anything he wanted given a quiet afternoon in the workshop.

Maybe Tony did have a fetish for his own tech.

There was a second reason he’d designed the suit’s built-in sex toy to be girthy, as much as he tried not to admit it. He tried so hard not to think about Steve’s dick — _friends,_ Tony wasn’t supposed to — but he knew it was big. Bernie Rosenthal was a filthy gossip, and word got around the Avengers faster than Quicksilver on meth.

With a few quick commands, Tony locked the armor into position, trusting the autopilot to keep him going in straight line. Tony’d found early on in his experiments with armor masturbation that he had a tendency to writhe. His body didn’t care that no amount of pushing into the pressure would make the dildo change its pace, or that bucking his hips while in full flight mode did bad things to his aerodynamics. To that end, he froze most of the armor’s joints so he could strain as much as he wanted against its rigid shell.

It was like the best, most complete bondage he could imagine. He was comfortably supported everywhere and also absolutely incapable of shifting more than a few centimeters in any direction. With a single word he could regain full range of motion, but for now he was restrained from ankle to wrist.

Tony circled his hips in the minimal space available to him in his metal shell, feeling his rim stretch against the stiff metal. He’d almost forgotten the pornography playing on his visor screen while he focused on the vibrator logistics, but now his attention drifted back to it. The man who had been in the middle of the sex sandwich was now sprawled out on his back, head hanging off the edge of the bed so the blond man could carefully fuck his mouth, occasionally pushing in deep enough that Tony could see the shape of his cock distending his throat. _God,_ that was hot. The woman knelt between his splayed legs, two fingers up to the knuckle in his ass while she gave him a leisurely blowjob. It looked like heaven, being sweetly used in every way.

“Initiate program _Hammer Time v3,_ ” Tony said, tired of messing around with settings and ready to go. He had a couple pre-programmed fuck-routines saved, and this one got him off hard without fail.

Three things happened in quick succession: the vibrator started up with a tooth-rattling buzz, its girth increased significantly, and it thrust forward, the pressure in Tony’s ass changing from a background sensation to a full-body shock.

Tony grunted as his hips tried to twist away to the side, away from the invading push. He’d forgotten that Hammer Time started with a bang. The twist was aborted by the confines of the armor, and the vibrator sank deep into him. Machines had no mercy; he either took what the armor gave him or ordered the program to stop.

The vibrator drew back and slammed forward again, pushing Tony and his hard dick against the front of the groin plate. He groaned and fought to relax. _C’mon, take it, let it have you._ It felt like the vibrations were rattling his pelvis hard enough to shake his hips out of his sockets. Inside him, the metal shaft rippled, ridges forming all along its underside, then dragged right over his prostate in a long, impossible stroke.

He whimpered — nobody was watching, he was allowed to make whatever noises he wanted — and felt his cock jerk. Beneath him, a checkerboard of green fields rolled by, interrupted by wisps of clouds. Anyone looking up right now would see Iron Man streaking through the sky, completely unaware that he was getting roughly fucked. The armor wicked away precome through the front of the jockstrap, leaving him barely damp.

The gentle threesome on screen was winding down, but Tony didn’t need pornography any more. He had plenty to focus on. The vibrator fucked him mindlessly, simultaneously under Tony’s control and out of it. He felt stretched almost to the limit, sloppy with it as he panted open-mouthed. Sweat dripped down his forehead, and the armor’s integrated fans kicked on, cooling and drying him so he didn’t cause any shorts.

“Ngh, fuck,” Tony gasped. His vision was darkening, narrowing to the pounding in his ass and the grind of his cock against the unforgiving metal insides of the suit. He couldn’t hold on much longer — orgasm was quickly approaching.

This was when the hubris came in. The armor flashed a warning across his display — thunderhead approaching. It wasn’t just the hard fucking that was dimming his vision; around him the wispy clouds were thickening. Maybe Tony would have been a little more cautious if he hadn’t been so _damn_ close, or if he wasn’t so determined to take the edge off before he saw Steve and had to suppress lustful thoughts all weekend. Confident he could weather a little rain, he dismissed the alert and sank back into getting a good robotic dicking.

All Tony could do was screw his eyes shut and shiver as the vibrator dragged him to his peak, and then he was spilling in uncontrollable pulses, thigh muscles quivering helplessly.

When he was all spent and starting to twitch with overstimulation, Tony gave the program the stop command. It didn’t pull out right away, giving him a chance to come down slowly.

“Unfreeze servos,” Tony said, regaining the ability to move. He rolled his neck, working out the kinks, and noted with hazy post-coital concern that the storm was really kicking up outside.

That wasn’t a problem. Tony flew in bad weather all the time.

And _that’s_ when the impossibly bad luck came in. The only warning Tony had was the hair on his forearms rising, and then there was a blinding flash and deafening crack as the suit was struck by lightning.

_What are the odds?_ Tony thought as all his electronics blacked out. The armor lost altitude, tipping into a tumble with Tony still impaled inside of it. _A 0.1% chance that I get hit by lightning on any given day, and it has to be while I’m trying to jerk it._

Emergency lights winked on, bathing Tony’s face in pallid red light.

_Rebooting: 6%_

Tony had about a minute and a half before he was in trouble. It was going to be okay — the armor would be back online with time to spare. He wouldn’t be discovered as a metal pancake in a random field in Minnesota, vibrator still jammed up his ass. Nobody’d have to send an x-ray of his flattened body to the yearly round-up of things the ER had extracted from the rectal cavities of morons.

_Rebooting: 30%_

He was going to be okay. He’d gotten hit by lightning before — besides the pedestrian dangers of flying through thunderstorms, working with Thor entailed a certain amount of risk — and the armor always pulled him up in time.

_Rebooting: 77%_

_Rebooting: 93%_

_System online._

Tony fired his thrusters in calculated bursts, stopping his sickening downward tumble and regaining altitude. His heartbeat slowed its uneven gallop as he stabilized. No harm done.

As the adrenaline started to fade and Tony could feel his body again, he became abruptly aware that the vibrator was moving inside him. That made sense, he thought. To protect against malware attacks, the armor always rebooted to its last backup. The backup usually reset every five minutes or so, and five minutes ago Tony’d been having a good time.

Tony chuckled at himself. “Halt subroutine _Hammer Time v3,_ ” he said.

No change. The vibrator kept on thrusting. Tony winced as it glanced over a spot that had been very pleasant a few minutes ago and was now not so nice.

Okay, no problem, sometimes the voice recognition software had a little trouble when Tony was out of breath. He switched to analog controls and paged through the armor menus until he got to the password-locked partition where he kept his adult content.

_Verify user Tony Stark, launch Sexy Software Manager Interface, open folder Bawdy Blueprints, subfolder Pounding Programs, filename HammerTime_v3_final_hardedit_2.sexe, halt program, confirm halt program._

The software manager promptly crashed. The vibrator was still thrusting.

Time for a less elegant fix. If he wiped the directory, it should stop. He’d lose some data, but nothing the armor needed to function, and there was always more porn.

_rmdir -r StarkSoloSolutions_

“That really should have worked,” Tony said aloud when nothing changed. He was starting to get sore, and he’d much rather be focusing on not getting hit by lightning again.

“I’m serious. It really, definitely should have worked.”

The armor, unmoved by this admonishment, carried on fucking him, big beautiful golden dick driving in and out of Tony’s ass without a care in the world.

◈

Which brought Tony to his present condition.

The second orgasm had been a weird mixture of fun and chafing. The third was all chafing. Tony was focusing hard on not having a fourth. If this was what babies felt like when they got diaper rash, Tony didn’t blame them for screaming all the time. The armor wasn’t built to mop up more than one batch of come, so his crotch was squishy in the front, and the vibrator was set to apply lube at regular intervals, so it was squishy in the rear as well.

Tony had touched down briefly in a nice secluded cornfield to try to shuck the humpy-pumpy armor, unable to plan much farther than _please stop, my ass has had enough,_ and found that the lightning had fried the release system as well. He was going to need at least a screwdriver and a socket wrench handy if he wanted to get loose.

Now he was trying to find his zen while he counted the minutes until he touched down in the mansion hangar bay. Finding a place to land and struggling with his jammed catches had lost him about half an hour.

_I will never, ever, jerk off in a thunderstorm again,_ Tony swore. _I’ve learned my lesson._

He’d tried every trick in his programming arsenal, to no avail. He felt raw and over-used and leaky by the time he crossed into Pennsylvania. One more state to go, and then he’d be home.

◈

There was a lot of Pennsylvania. One state had no business being so large.

Tony switched to stealth mode — thank heavens that still worked — as he reached New York. There was a dedicated superhero spotter community in the city, who shared photos of the Avengers’ every coming and going on their extensive internet forums, and Tony didn’t want to be spotted when Iron Man was supposed to be in Seattle. Tony didn’t understand the capewatchers until Clint pointed out that Tony acted the same way about transistors. Even so, Tony wished they would stop being such a useful resource for individuals who wanted to track the Avengers’ movements for more nefarious ends than nerdy enthusiasm.

At last, Tony landed in the hangar bay. The fourth orgasm he’d been holding at bay crept up on him, trying to sneak its way through on the coattails of his relief at getting home. Tony grit his teeth and absolutely refused to make more of a mess in his pants.

He was almost there. The elevator was just across the hangar, a straight shot to — oh, no, the universe had to be kidding — straight to _fuck-all._ Tony groaned aloud as he read Steve’s neat handwriting spelling out, “OUT OF ORDER, USE STAIRS,” on a piece of paper taped to the elevator doors.

Stairs sounded _awful._

Tony was almost ready to lie down and surrender to death by fucking machine when he heard someone bounding up the aforementioned awful stairs with light, athletic footsteps.

A bright head poked out of the stairway, followed by the rest of Steve Rogers, handsome in khaki slacks and a salmon polo shirt. On anyone else the look would have been unbearably prep school douchebaggy; on Steve it looked crisp and unaffected. Hell, Tony was gone for him, but now wasn’t exactly the best time.

“You made it,” Steve said, beaming. “Jarvis is entertaining your guests downstairs — his hors d'oeuvres are so good I don’t think they’ve even noticed you haven’t made an appearance.”

_The luncheon,_ Tony thought, _I forgot the luncheon._ He’d had Pepper arrange it last-minute, a casual bit of mingling at the mansion before the more serious financial meetings on Saturday. He was trapped in the armor, marinating in his own come, still getting pounded by a rogue dildo, and _late._

“I wanted to catch you before you were swept away on business,” Steve went on, grin turning a little bashful. “I know you have to run but I thought I’d say hello.”

Steve was such a good friend, it was going to be the death of Tony. He tried to strike a casual pose and ended up jarring his raw ass. He stifled a curse and wondered if Steve would be offended if he didn’t take off the helmet before running away to the workshop.

“It’s been too long,” Tony said, trying to sound like he wasn’t being fucked ragged. “I’d love to chat, but I need to make a quick stop in my workshop before I talk to these people.”

He took a step towards the stairs, and incidentally also towards Steve. It hurt. He was lucky he didn’t stumble. _One foot in front of the other,_ Tony thought. _And don’t think too much about Steve watching you innocently while something approximately the size of his dick rams your ass._

_Too late._

Steve’s brow furrowed. “Are you sure you want to go that way? I didn’t think you’d want the suits down there to catch sight of Iron Man.”

Tony was so out of it he hadn’t even thought about his secret identity. “Fuck, you’re right,” he said, hanging his head in exhaustion. “Okay, let me think.”

Steve was looking increasingly concerned. “Tony? You don’t sound good — what’s that noise the armor’s making? Kind of a buzzing.”

_Oh, Steve, that would be the custom vibrator that’s been railing me continuously for the past three hours!_

“Nothing,” Tony said, waving a weak hand. “Minor malfunction. Got hit by lightning, some motors froze up, can’t get the suit off without tools.”

If Tony had been at his full mental capacity, he could have predicted what would happen next. Unfortunately, his dick was crackling with pins and needles as it tried to get hard again and his prostate felt like a hot coal and he couldn’t keep himself from looking at Steve’s mouth and there just wasn’t a lot of space left in his poor, abused nervous system for useful things like foresight.

“Lightning? Jeez, Tony, can I help?” Steve asked. “I’m not as sophisticated as anything you’ve got in your workshop, but I make a decent substitute for a crowbar in a pinch.”

Of course Steve would offer to help. Helping was as natural to him as breathing, or doing back-handsprings out of bed. And Tony was in desperate need of assistance but absolutely could not accept it.

“Afraid not,” Tony said. He attempted another step to demonstrate that he was strong, independent and doing fantastic.

This step went even worse than the last one. Right as his foot landed the dildo jabbed forward, and the combined force of gravity and transistor-powered sex toy nailed him directly in his tender prostate. Tony couldn’t stop the sound of pleasure-pain that came out of his mouth.

Steve heard, and his eyes narrowed. “Tony, are you injured?” he asked, abruptly serious. Tony had a mildly bad habit of concealing injuries that Steve had always disapproved of.

“Nn — _oh_ — no,” Tony said, very convincingly, as the dildo got him again in the same spot. There was a real possibility that his knees were about to buckle.

Steve took initiative — such an attractive trait usually, right now very inconvenient — and hurried to Tony’s side. He grabbed Tony by the armpits just as Tony’s legs started to give out.

“You’re all right, Shellhead,” Steve said, hoisting Tony up to get one arm over his broad shoulders. “Getting electrocuted is rough stuff — you don’t have to tough it out in secret.”

Steve paused and his mouth twisted before he continued. “It’d mean a lot if you trusted me enough to say when you’re hurt. I know I’ve messed up in the past, and I know how important your pride is to you, but I wish — I wish you’d let me take care of you sometimes.”

Hell, Steve wasn’t supposed to think that Tony didn’t trust him. He wanted to say that he trusted Steve with anything, but that would mean letting Steve peel him out of the armor and see what Tony had done to himself.

“Can we at least get the helmet off of you so you can breathe?” Steve asked gently.

“Okay,” Tony said. It was too hard to come up with a lie that would convince Steve he was fine on his own. He wasn’t fine. He was exhausted, and sore, and there was no way he could get down the stairs on his own.

Steve found the release points on Tony’s neck and pulled them loose with a groan and pop of failing metal. “Sorry,” he said softly. “There, open.”

Fresh air filled Tony’s lungs like a dream as Steve lifted the helmet away. His hair clung damply to his forehead, and he felt a chill as the breeze hit the tracks of sweat and tears running across his cheeks and wetting the creases of his nose, setting off a shiver that ran from the back of his neck down to the painful stretch in his ass. He was shaking. There were tears pricking in his eyes as he turned, helpless, to look into Steve’s face.

“ _Tony,_ ” Steve said, breathless in horror. “What happened to you?”

The helmet dropped to the ground with a clang as Steve lifted his hand to Tony’s cheek. He wiped at the wet mess of Tony’s face with a soft brush of his thumb, and Tony’s throat constricted on his next breath, betraying him with a long, mortifying whine. It was too much, too close to something he’d always wanted: to lie in Steve’s arms, fucked-out, satisfied and over-used while Steve petted him and pushed the hair out of his face, loving and gentle like he was now. In Tony’s imagination his ass was sore from being wrapped around Steve’s cock, not this cold facsimile. The dual fantasies — the exhausting sex and the sweet comfort afterwards — hit him like a jolt of g force and, horribly, Tony lost control.

His fourth orgasm took him with a hot wire pulling up from his balls and out his dick, dry and burning. Tony found himself falling against Steve, burying his face in the crook of Steve’s shoulder to sob. He couldn’t stop, and Steve was clasping the back of his neck, holding him close, shushing him with a soft voice as Tony fell the fuck apart.

“I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry, you’re going to think I’m gross,” Tony said. He’d come because Steve had wiped his face, when Steve thought he was comforting an injured friend.

“No, hey, Tony, no,” Steve whispered. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

He had to fess up, now. It wouldn’t be fair to Steve otherwise. Steve could probably feel the buzz of the vibrator where Tony leaned against him.

Simple, direct statements. That was the least mortifying way to explain.

“I built a vibrator into the suit so I could get off on long flights,” he said, wobbling upright as he did so Steve didn’t have to be touching him while he learned that Tony was a real pervert. At least Steve wouldn’t know that Tony was using his jerk-off machine to prepare for seeing _him._ “Something went wrong when the suit got electrocuted, and now it won’t turn off.”

“Oh,” Steve said. Then he blinked and his cheeks reddened. “ _Oh._ ”

“Yeah,” Tony said, hanging his head.

“How long?” Steve asked, then covered his mouth with one hand like he hadn’t meant to ask.

“Couple hours,” Tony said, and didn’t bother to stifle the choking moan that came out of him as the vibrator fucked particularly vigorously into his raw hole.

“And it’s still — “

Tony cringed and nodded. “Pretty enthusiastically.”

Steve blew a long breath out of his nose and shifted uncomfortably. That was about what Tony had expected. He resigned himself to a long future of Steve awkwardly avoiding him in hallways and explaining to Carol that he’d be needing her to carry Steve around in combat if he needed a flying assist.

“We need to get you out of there,” Steve said resolutely, even though his face was still bright red with secondhand embarrassment.

“It’s pretty x-rated in here,” Tony warned. “I can figure it out myself — you don’t want to see this.”

Steve swallowed hard, then tipped his chin up. “I won’t abandon a friend in need. You can barely walk, let alone break open all the stuck latches.”

There was no arguing with Steve when he was determined to be self-sacrificing. Tony relented, and Steve got to work freeing him.

First Steve cracked open the gauntlets, baring Tony’s hands and granting him enough dexterity to point out where Steve needed to pull. Then he removed the arms and chest plate, revealing Tony’s rumpled shirt, soaked all the way down the back with sweat. As Steve lifted the chest plate away, the unmistakable scent of sex filled the air. The hum of the vibrator was terribly loud in Tony’s ears, paired now with the rhythmic mechanical whir of the dildo pistoning in and out of him. He imagined that Steve’s enhanced hearing was picking up every squelch of lube, now that there was less metal in the way to block the sound.

Steve swallowed again, his breath rough in his throat. He rested both hands on Tony’s hips, bracing himself. Tony tried in vain not to look like he’d just hit the last quarter mile of a sex marathon.

Tony didn’t know if he wanted to put this part off as long as possible or if he just wanted to get it over with. “Steve? You okay?” he asked, when Steve didn’t move for a long moment.

“I shouldn’t do this,” Steve said, shaking his head. “It’s not fair to you, not when you don’t know — “

“Know what?”

Steve’s face twisted up, the same way it did when he was about to make a jump off a roof that he knew was too high for him. “It’d be taking advantage if I didn’t tell you that I’m — um — I’m very aroused right now.”

Tony had to laugh, which made his ass clench. “Ow — Steve — do you think I’m in any position to judge right now?”

Steve bit his lip and glanced away. His hands were still light on Tony’s hips.

Slowly, Tony’s brain caught up. _Aroused?_ What the hell could Steve be aroused by? Maybe Steve thought the armor was hot too? That could sort of make sense; lots of people had a thing for toys, and Tony prided himself on attractive designs.

“It’s not — you’re not — “ Steve said haltingly, “ — you can’t help it. I should be able to control myself, but looking at you like this makes me — I’m sorry.”

“ _Me?_ ” Tony asked, shocked.

“I understand if you want someone else to help you with the — ahem — most intimate part here.”

“You’re aroused because of _me?_ ” Tony asked again, still stuck on that thought and not processing whatever Steve was still going on about. “That’s impossible, I’m disgusting right now.”

Steve cleared his throat and shifted again, and this time Tony stole a glance at the front of his pants. Steve hadn’t been lying about the aroused part. Bernie hadn’t been lying about Steve’s size, either.

“You look like about six months of wet dreams bundled into one,” Steve admitted, voice rough despite all the throat-clearing. “I’ll go find someone who isn’t like this, don’t worry.”

Steve turned like he was actually going to leave, so Tony shook himself out of his shocked stupor — Steve thought he was attractive, even like this, Steve had a magnificent boner because of _Tony_ — and grabbed his arm.

“No! No — stay,” Tony said. “I want your help. I want it to be you.”

“Tony — “ Steve said gently, “ — you don’t have to make sacrifices to save my pride.”

“I’ll make it worth your while,” Tony said, throwing caution to the wind. It’s not like he could be any _more_ embarrassed. “If you get this goddamn thing off of me I can help you with that erection you have. Enthusiastically. With my mouth.”

“Oh, hell,” Steve swore, and Tony was half-sure he could see Steve’s dick twitch in his pants. “That’s not fair.”

“I mean it,” Tony said.

Steve’s fingers flexed on Tony’s hips, and Tony released the sigh he’d been holding in, anticipating finally, _finally,_ giving his ass a break.

“Right. Then — hold still.”

Tony braced himself against Steve’s shoulders as Steve wrenched the groin plate’s hinges apart. The front section of the armor came away with a wet, sticky sound. Steve groaned something wordless deep in his throat.

“Okay, back part now,” Steve said. He got a grip on it and tugged experimentally. Tony hadn’t realized how accustomed he’d become to the even rhythm of the vibrator — the shift in tempo when Steve pulled felt monumental. Tony’s raw skin screeched at him as Steve pulled the rear half of the suit’s groin, taking a few inches of the thick dildo along with it. Tony made a high, reedy noise at the sharp change. Steve adjusted and figured out how to move in sync with the dildo’s thrusting actuator. Steve switched to rocking the toy out of Tony little by little as Tony choked back whimpers. If it had been something as pedestrian as a knife or a bit of shrapnel embedded inside him, Tony could have borne the extraction silently. But the combination of pain and Steve pulling on his open asshole had him reduced to a shaking wreck, throat punctuating every move Steve made with wordless gasps.

It was a long, tortuous drag. There was a lot of fake dick inside of Tony, and Steve was being achingly careful. At last, Tony felt the crown of the vibrator tug at his rim. The last pull stretched Tony almost past his limits. Then it was slipping free all at once, so fast that Tony curled forward reflexively, grabbing his abdomen and panting open-mouthed.

The hunk of armor clanged to the ground and Steve was back, steadying him. Tony let Steve take most of his weight while he took a moment for himself. He was afraid to clench down and feel the damage, so his ass felt slack and open.

Tony’s unzipped pants clung to him, filthy with come. There was come running down his leg, already dried and itchy. He felt smeared with it from balls to belly button, and everywhere he wasn’t covered with his own semen he was gluey with lube.

“Not so arousing out in the open, huh? Christ, that’s really excessive,” Tony asked, still slung loosely against Steve.

“That is not what I was thinking,” Steve said, hand drifting down to ghost over a drip of jizz on Tony’s inseam. He looked awed. “How many times did you come like this?”

“Well, you were there for the fourth one,” Tony panted. Too much information, but he could be excused on account of how overwhelmed he was. His insides half-felt like they were still vibrating, a staticky echo of sensation.

Steve’s lips soundlessly formed the word _four._

“Can you tell me how it looks back there?” Tony asked, not sure that he wanted the answer.

Tony gasped as Steve let him go and used both hands to carefully spread Tony’s cheeks apart, making a careful inspection. He hadn’t expected Steve to get this _personal_ about it. He’d be able to see all of it, the drying glisten of lube and how exhausted and puffy Tony’s rim was. Tony tightened as best he could, trying to shut out Steve’s gaze. Steve’s hands just flexed, kneading Tony’s ass, and he made a low, agonized sound when Tony clenched again.

“It looks, um, a bit worn out,” Steve said.

“Feels worn out,” Tony agreed.

“I didn’t know you were a jockstrap man,” Steve said, voice roughening.

“Only when I’m looking to have a good time.”

“I want — “ Steve began, then cut himself off.

Tony grinned, even though Steve couldn’t see him, as he was still spreading Tony’s ass apart and staring. “Looking forward to that blow job I offered?”

Steve straightened, his hands sliding up to rub Tony’s lower back. It was so good to be free of the sandpaper-slide of the armor’s dick that all of Tony’s muscles were watery with relief. It felt like Steve’s hands were molding him back into shape.

“You’re in no shape to be kneeling on concrete for anyone,” Steve said. “I was going to ask for something else.”

If Steve wanted to fuck Tony, he should know that kneeling on concrete would be preferable to anything serious going up his ass for at least 72 hours. But when Tony looked, Steve was making a crude jerk-off gesture in front of his tented pants.

“Do you want to come on me?” Tony asked, a little uninvited thrill of arousal running down his spine. He could just stand here, and Steve would get off on nothing more than the sight of Tony’s debauched state and a few quick strokes of his hand.

“Yes,” Steve rasped.

Tony found that he was finally coordinated enough to reach back and grab one asscheek to spread himsellf. “Do you want to come so it runs down over my unlucky, battered asshole?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Steve said, hands vanishing and belt clinking as he hurried to free himself. Tony couldn’t help himself — he twisted around to get a look at Steve’s dick. It stood proud in Steve’s hand, thick and ruddy with blood.

Tony gasped as Steve swept one hand through the mess of lube smeared in the crease of his thigh, then used it to slick up his cock. It was unbearably hot — if Tony could have gotten hard again, he would have. Instead he arched his back until Steve’s knuckles brushed his ass at the top of every stroke, and Tony felt the sporadic damp kiss of Steve’s cockhead bumping his skin.

“I can’t believe you’re attracted to me like this,” Tony said, as Steve’s breath went a little more ragged.

“You’re always handsome,” Steve said, predictably kind like Captain America was supposed to be. Steve made a lifestyle out of living up to the legend. “Right now you’re both handsome and looking like you stepped straight out of one of my fantasies, actually. Always imagined making you feel good until you couldn’t take it any longer, making you all tender and worn out, just like this.”

Okay, that bit wasn’t in line with the Captain America mythos.

Tony found himself at a loss for words, so he didn’t bother, just moaned to demonstrate how truly wrecked he was for Steve.

Steve’s hand sped up, fist squeezing tight over the head on every stroke. Then he pressed the tip of his cock against the apex of Tony’s asscrack and came in messy rushes all over Tony’s skin. Most of it ran down between his cheeks, stinging as it touched the raw skin around his rim. Steve let out a nasal grunt as he finished, oddly cute, like he couldn’t believe it was over already.

They stood pressed together in the empty hangar bay as the absurdity of the situation came rushing back. Tony gingerly reached around to zip up the gusset of his pants, twitching as that jostled his sore bits and plastered more come against his skin. Steve re-fastened his pants as well.

“Thank god nobody caught us,” Tony said.

“I didn’t even think about that,” Steve whispered, eyes going wide. “Oh no, your _investors_. They’re right downstairs! I got so carried away.”

Tony looked down at his slacks and made a face. He was still armored up from mid-thigh down, and everywhere above that was a gluey mess. “I can’t go anywhere like this.”

Tony plucked at the front of his pants and they peeled away from his skin with a smack. Evidently his reaction to this was funny, because Steve threw back his head and laughed. Tony could feel Steve’s shoulders shake with amusement as one bumped against his own.

“I can sneak down and get you a change of pants,” Steve offered. He paused. “Maybe a washcloth, as well.”

That made Tony laugh as well, and he ended up clinging to Steve to keep his balance, wobbly with half-hysterical mirth. “Pants would be lovely,” he said, turning his head to peck Steve on the cheek.

It was a thoughtless little kiss, a thank-you-honey sort of gesture, but it made Steve freeze, shock painted clear across his face. For all that Steve had been coming all over Tony’s sloppy asshole barely five minutes ago, this was what shook him.

Steve turned towards Tony, tentative, hopeful, and Tony didn’t even have to tip his head — he just leaned into a kiss.

Kissing could be awkward, the first time. Nobody knew quite how their partner liked it, and there was always the self-conscious calculation about how long it had been since the last tooth-brushing, if someone was going to come away with beard-burn, was this too heavy or not heavy enough. But Steve was a natural, soft lips half-open and gentle against Tony’s. He’d already seen Tony at his grossest and still wanted him, not just to fuck but to hold in his arms, even though Tony was pretty sure there was come soaking into the front of Steve’s pants too at this point, from how close they were pressed against each other.

“Hey, you,” Tony said softly, when Steve drew away.

“Hey yourself,” Steve said, equally soft and breathy.

“I was thinking,” Tony said, even though he hadn’t been thinking at all. He didn’t know what his next words were going to be — any potential plan had been shaken out of his head in favor of kissing Steve — but he went on anyway, “Maybe I could give you that blow job after all. Later. Tomorrow. Whenever you’d like.”

It definitely wasn’t the smoothest way Tony had ever asked for a date. Probably Steve was used to being wined and dined before progressing to messy sex. He likely expected to pull out chairs for his date and hold hands in the park. But Steve chuckled and leaned in to kiss Tony again, then grinned like he’d gotten away with tweaking Dr. Strange’s cape-collar. “That sure beats my plan to be careful not to look at you too long for a couple months, in case I got a stiffie again. Hard to explain that one to the team.”

“So — yes?”

“Yes.”

◈

After the tumultuous events of the first half of the day, it seemed unfair for the second half to be so boring. Tony had to pretend that he cared about mergers and refinancing. In normal circumstances, Tony found business interesting, and he enjoyed drawing people out of their staid work personas and into more meaningful conversations. But that game was less amusing now that Steve had kissed him. Tony’s heart had gone topsy-turvy, unable to tell up from down. It was like the nature of coordinate space had been thrown out of alignment when Steve drew the massive toy out of Tony’s ass inch by inch, the world’s lewdest sword in the stone. Tony didn’t quite giggle at his own joke, but it was a near thing.

Investors were inconsequential. Right now Tony wanted to think about Steve, and how to make sure the suit didn’t get struck by lightning again, and finding some hemorrhoid cream for his ass, and Steve some more.

Particularly, Steve’s nice big cock, and how long it would take for Tony to heal enough to get it inside of him. Tony hadn’t considered himself a size queen before, but he could turn into one in a hurry if Steve was involved.

Steve had insisted, after he fetched Tony some pants, that he help wipe Tony up. Then, belatedly concerned about their privacy, he’d carried Tony to the storage closet. There he’d bent Tony over the air compressor they used to fill the jets’s tires and wiped him up with meticulous care.

“I put it there, I should clean it up,” Steve said, even though only about a tenth of the mess was from him.

Tony’d let him, and tried not to think too much about his newly discovered dirty fantasy of Steve coming on him just like this before a black tie event so Tony was forced to walk around with Steve’s spend dripping down his thigh. It would itch as it dried in his leg hair, a filthy souvenir just for Tony.

Later, maybe. If this worked out — if Tony did a good job with the promised blow job, and Steve didn’t decide he was too dignified to rescue Tony from any more catastrophic masturbation mistakes, and Tony asked very nicely — maybe later Tony could have whatever un-friend-like thoughts he pleased about Steve.

And even better, if he asked very, _very_ nicely, Tony might manage to convince Steve to try out phone sex. Think of it this way, he’d argue — it would certainly keep those long, lonely flights from getting boring.

◈


End file.
